


Are you lost?

by eIiza



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/M, M/M, this is the first thing ive ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 04:59:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7561360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eIiza/pseuds/eIiza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John mistakes Eliza for Alexander and invites her to sit with his crew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Are you lost?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alexanger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanger/gifts).



It’s winter when Eliza meets them for the first time.

She’s on her way home from work, breath visible and fingers icy, when she gets a text from her older sister - _going out for dinner. come drink with me?_ \- and Eliza knows exactly where to go. 

The Thirsty Brothers is huge, loud, and crowded, something Eliza doesn’t mind at all. When she’s not up for conversation, there’s plenty of people to sit back and observe. No one in their group minds when she needs to step back like that and she’s grateful for her understanding companions. The place is also very, very warm, a welcome change from the outside chill. Tying her hair back, she makes her way over to the regular spot, but instead of her sister and the usual crew crowded into the booth, there are three loud strangers, drinks in hand and empty cups on the table.

Eliza reasons they must be at a different table then. Reaching for her phone, her feet continue to carry her toward the booth, and before she realizes she should have stopped, her gaze is captured by bright grey eyes, and she’s unable to turn away. The stranger is looking right at her. 

He is very pretty. Two empty bottles sit in his corner of the table. Eliza takes in him in all at once, strong, bearded jawline, eyebrows drawn down, contemplative, and dark hair messily tied back into a ponytail, cocky posture sipping a beer, and before she realizes, she’s standing right next to him. The booths are raised a foot above floor level and she’s almost craning her neck to maintain the connection. It occurs to her that she should _stop staring_ but he speaks before any other reasonable action comes to mind.

“Uh, hi. Hey,” the ponytail man smirks, raising his eyebrows. Shit. Too late to back out now.

“Are you lost?” he continues, “Because I found a map in your eyes.”

“Dude, you fucked it backwards,” The larger of his companions chuckles. She takes a deep breath. This is a very bad idea. Time to back out.

“Actually, I am lost. I’m looking for my sister, so I should- ” She is cut off as a fourth stranger arrives, now standing right behind her.

“Yo, you need up? Let me help,” he says clearly but with drunken difficulty. Before Eliza can turn to see the six foot tall, freckled man behind her, he’s already hoisting her up by her armpits into the booth next to ponytail man and sliding in after her. Although the bench can host three people, it is definitely not able to accommodate Eliza’s personal space as well. They are too close and Eliza is trapped by their body heat. She takes a deep breath as her pulse quickens, uncertain on how to get out. The one with freckles addresses her and his friends.

 “Guys, you’ll never guess who I saw in the bathroom. Fucking- ” He stops short, suddenly noticing her, then looking to ponytail man next to her, then back to her. His eyes widen as he realizes, “Shit, you’re not Alex. Fuck. You’re both so short, and the hair- “

 “You thought she was me?” the man who must be Alex laughs, turning to look at her again. “I mean yeah, I guess I am that pretty.”

 He winks at her and she is mortified. She came here to have dinner with her friends, not meet cute boys. Even if said cute boys have soft-looking lips and gentle, angled cheekbones, both of which contrast his ardent, intense eyes; it’s always his eyes. They lock with hers again and she’s stuck. Eliza smiles politely, unable to find her voice. Under the table, she manages a quick text to her older sister - _im at ur usu table. come get me pls_.

 Alex pops the cap off of another bottle and continues rambling, “Wait. Fuck you, John. I don’t need your help getting in booths. I’m not that _short_.” He points an uncoordinated accusatory finger at John, brows furrowing.

 “Actually, no, I am short and I’m offended you think I would need your help, and took action without my permission and this person here - sorry, what’s your name?” Alex asks.

“Eliza,” she blurts, stuck between them, sitting tense and rigid. She tries focusing on her breathing.

“And Eliza here, I’m sure, is just as capable at getting in booths and is _just_ as offended as I am that you would do such a thing. Probably even more offended than me, even, seeing as how Eliza is the one you committed this grave act against. This is like, fucking, short person discrimination. You can’t judge our abilities based on our height. Fuck you, John. I bet you I could kick your ass at, at sitting in tall chairs. We’re not short so you can look down on us for- “

 “Actually, that’s kind of how that works,” John cuts him off. Eliza notices Alex’s open yet untouched beer.

 “No, it’s because you’re an ass,” Alex shoots back, leaning forward on the table to see around Eliza.

“Because that’s all you can see of me at your height,” is John’s retort. Eliza sneaks an arm over to the bottle, less than a foot away. 

“No matter where I look, looking at you, it’s all ass.”

“You can’t deny that it’s an amazing view.” John gloats. Alex’s beer is in Eliza’s hands, unnoticed by its owner.

As John and Alex argue, she downs half of the bottle and sidles it back in front of Alex. Eliza is a lightweight, and it’s enough, she decides, to help her take in everything that’s happening. One of the men opposite her, Hercules, she later learns, accentuates the argument with cheers for every good come-back. The other one, Lafayette, offers her an impressed and apologetic smile. He definitely noticed her heist.

 The men to her sides lean closer as their argument gets more and more heated. She can’t help but notice John’s toned arms folded over the table, and his smooth, almost nonchalant rebuttal to Alex’s fiery onslaught. John is composed. Alex is like a bonfire, burning bright and passionate and spitting sparks and ash as he makes his case defending Eliza.

Wait, no. It’s not like that. It’s not for her. Alex is just… Eliza has no idea why they’re fighting. He mentioned short people discrimination, but really, the issue is that no one’s bothered to ask her if she even wanted to sit between these two attractive men. Wait, no. They’re just regular men. Strangers. Then suddenly Alex is facing her again, smiling wide, and Eliza is startled out of her reverie.

“Victory for short people! Which will be henceforth defined as anyone shorter than John Laurens,” Alex wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in even closer and her heart skips a beat. Her breath catches. She can’t think.

 “What drink do you want?” he asks her, his face inches away from hers. She scrambles to collect herself.

“What?” she manages, and suddenly everything is happening again. The noise of all the patrons catch up to her ears, everything is warm, her heart is full on hammering, and she hopes it isn’t obvious that she’s having difficulty catching her breath. His face is so close, she could easily close the distance between them. She watches his lips as he starts again, then immediately banishes any thought of kissing him.

“John is going to buy us apology drinks as a peace negotiation to heal the rift between the tall and short communities. This offering will mark the beginning of a long journey as we achieve peace between our people,” he explains, his face close and flushed from the excitement and alcohol. Eliza didn’t catch any of what he said, but she can’t help but smile, overcome by his euphoria. With it, her eyes light up to match his. She allows herself to relax a bit.

John opens his mouth to protest, but closes it again after turning to face Alex and Eliza once more. His face softens.

“Fine. One drink.”

Alex cheers and Hercules high-fives both him and Eliza, celebrating their victory even if he doesn’t reap any reward. He turns to high-five Lafayette too, but stops to declare, “Heyyy, it’s Mr Burr!”

“That’s who I ran into in the bathroom,” John puts out, finally finishes his story. Eliza looks up, and sure enough, Burr is there, next to Thomas Jefferson. Standing in front of them is her sister. She feels all her strength return to her.

“Angie!” she calls out, leaning over the table and into Angelica’s line of sight.

“Wow, Eliza, how did you get mixed up with this trash?” Thomas asks.

There’s a scramble behind Eliza as Alex gets up to kneel on the booth and point at Thomas. Alex almost yells, “Shut the fuck your mouth!”

There’s a huge muddle of confusion and then it’s established that everyone knows Burr, Alex and Thomas are acquainted but not necessarily friends, and Angelica is Eliza’s sister.

“All right, now that that’s all cleared up, Eliza, come on, let’s get you fed,” Angelica takes charge.

Before John lets Eliza out, he presses a slip of paper into her hand. “I owe you a drink,” he explains.  
  
  


Settled safely against her sister, in their crew’s own booth, with her own drink and dinner in front of her, Eliza finally unfolds John’s note. On it, unsurprisingly, is his name and number, but that’s not the only thing there. “Alexander Hamilton” and another number reside beneath John’s. Angelica leans over to read it.

“Two numbers in one night. Not even a night. What was that, like, fifteen minutes?” Angelica says, impressed. “Are you going to go through with it?”

“Should I?” Eliza asks. She recalls John, solid, quick witted, muscular, and finds she wouldn’t mind getting to know him better. She thinks of Alex, with his bright eyes and spirit, and idly wonders what that passion would look like sober and focused on something less ridiculous.

“Yeah, why not?” Angelica smiles at her.

“No. No. Definitely no,” Thomas answers at the same time, “because they’re all assholes. Trust me.”

“I think it depends,” Burr offers after.

“On what?” Eliza asks.

“You know,” Burr nods, “important factors.”

**Author's Note:**

> gently yells this is my first fic and im nervous about posting  
> i know im not the best writer so thank you for making it this far  
> lays down (((this is so embarrassing///)))


End file.
